Epilogue II

Audrey

They say time flies by when you're having fun, but the same can be said for a first-time mother trying to navigate her new life, her new family, and a blossoming career as an educator for one of the best private kindergartens in the city—possibly the state of Illinois, altogether.

A year has passed since everything changed.

Since Vitaly took over the family business.

Since my father was forced out of the Bratva altogether, having to step into his retirement with a chip on his shoulder and a sour look on his face.

Since Jason and I moved in together. Our son is a year old, and as expected, he is practically an atomic yet adorable little demon. My brothers weren't too far off with their theories. But Lily and Rita make a formidable team in helping Jason and me with raising Edward. He's not a true handful, though he's not the easiest kid, either. I guess that's his appeal because I love every day that I get to be in his life, good or bad.

There's so much that I'm still learning, but Jason has been true to his word. He looks after us. He juggles his businesses and his family with exceptional tenacity, setting a brilliant example for me to follow, as well. I love him more and more with each passing day. I can no longer imagine a life without him, and that can be scary at times—especially on the eve of our wedding.

We agreed to keep the ceremony small. Only our closest friends and family have gathered at the Wayside Chapel. Rita and Lily are my beautiful bridesmaids in matching pink dresses. Vitaly and Anton will walk me down the aisle. They kept arguing over who would give me away, so I ultimately gave up and asked them both to do it.

My heart is stuck in my throat, the wedding jitters doing quite a number on me. I'm standing outside the chapel's ornate wooden doors. Inside, my future husband awaits, along with the officiant, the wedding party, and the guests. Among them are former Army buddies of Jason's. Their presence makes my brothers more nervous than the bride.

"Feds, so many Feds in there," Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"You look dashing," I say, trying to soothe his frayed nerves.

"What if it's a trap? What if they plan to arrest us as soon as you say, ‘I do,' huh?" he replies, giving me a panicked look.

Vitaly jokingly smacks him over the shoulder. "Cool your heels, Capone. It's a wedding. Our sister's wedding. What the hell?"

I would laugh if I weren't so anxious myself. It's a beautiful place, quiet and simple, yet elegant and welcoming, surrounded by lush gardens and blessed with all the spring sunshine that Mother Nature has to offer.

I picked out the perfect dress for this. The Regency-style corset hugs my full figure without suffocating me, adorned with fine pearls and silver thread, while the skirt and the sleeves flow freely in pure white silk, the hems lined with floral-themed lace. I opted for flats since no one can see my feet anyway. Besides, I plan to do plenty of dancing at the reception tonight, so the last thing I wanted was to wear myself out before we even got to the venue.

My brothers look particularly handsome in their Armani suits—elegant, dark blue jackets and pants in stark contrast with their white shirts and black bowties. They would've had a fine career in modeling on New York's most prestigious fashion runways had they not been born into the Bratva.

"Cut him some slack," I tell Vitaly. "He's nervous, too."

"We are not under investigation," he reminds Anton. "They're just Jason's friends."

Anton shrugs and gives me a childlike pout. "You know, you can still marry Piotr, if you want. I could hook you up. At least then we'd keep it all in the Bratva."

"I will end you," I shoot back.

"I'm kidding," Anton laughs. "Gosh, you are gorgeous…"

He takes a moment to admire me while Vitaly hands me my bouquet of white roses. This is it. The threshold we've all been trying to get to for quite some time. The ceremony marking my passage into a new and better life. I'm leaving the Fedorov name behind for good and becoming a Winchester.

"I still think you should hyphenate," Vitaly sighs deeply. "Audrey Fedorova-Winchester… it has a nice ring to it."

"Except I'm trying to keep a low profile regarding my Bratva ties, remember? We agreed on this months ago," I say. "Granted, I am sorry to bid the name farewell … sort of."

Anton chuckles dryly. "Shut up, you couldn't wait to sign the marriage certificate."

"So, I can marry Jason, obviously!"

"Yeah, right…"

"Now, now, don't be sour," Vitaly tells Anton. "She will always be a Fedorova to us, brother. We all know that."

"Through and through, huh?" Anton smiles softly, brotherly love beaming from his big, blue eyes. "Mom would be so happy for you, Audrey, so happy."

I nod slowly, wishing she could be here with us. In a way, she is, though. She is present through me, through my brothers. She never truly left us, and she never will. And it's the best that I can hope for, at least in this lifetime. Vitaly glances at the door just as the sound of the organ playing announces that they're ready to receive the bride for the ceremony.

"Come on, sis. We've got this," Anton says as he and Vitaly flank me and offer me their strong arms. "Time to give you away."

"Just don't tell Jason we like him too much," Vitaly adds. "We want to keep him on his toes in case he ever steps out of line with you."

I'm close to bursting out of this corset with sheer laughter when our father's voice startles all three of us. "I'm interrupting, little zaika."

"Holy …" I freeze for a split second.

Slowly, my brothers and I turn around to find Grigori Fedorov standing before us.

"Quiet as a mouse," Anton whispers.

We didn't hear him approaching. Somehow, he got past the security detail that Anton posted at the chapel's main entrance. We thought the old man had stayed in New York. It's not like we forbade him from the wedding; he just never responded to any of our invites. He's been too busy grouching over the whole takeover, so we figured he wanted to sulk alone in his room back at the Fedorov mansion.

Yet here he is, wearing a neatly tailored grey suit and a silver bowtie, his white hair combed and his skin glowing. He looks a lot better than the last time I saw him. Vitaly said he'd gone on a diet. It's doing wonders for his skin and outward appearance; I can say that much for him.

"Papa, what are you doing here?" I ask with a trembling voice.

Part of me is terrified that he's come to ruin my wedding day. I wouldn't have put it past him. He can be so bitter and vindictive. But the look on his face speaks of something else—a warmth I haven't seen in so many years; it feels downright foreign.

"Little zaika, I've been anything but a decent father to you, especially in recent years," he says, constantly stealing wary glances at my brothers. "I wouldn't know where to start with the apologies and making amends, but I figured you would like me to walk you down the aisle. It's a father's duty, after all."

"Are you serious?" Anton gasps. That gets him another nudge and a shush from Vitaly. "Ow. Dude …"

"I am serious," our father declares, keeping his chin up. "It is the least I can do now. I cannot change what I've said and done. I cannot take it back, and frankly, I think apologies and amends might be useless at this point, anyway. I do not expect you to want me in your life, nor will I insist on the matter," he adds and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "But your mother would never forgive me, even in the afterlife, if I don't step up now and do the right thing."

"Papa …" I manage, tears quick to fill my eyes. I'm conflicted, yet I cannot seem to find the words to send him away. Maybe I should. He has caused me so much trouble and so much pain. But he doesn't expect me to forgive him. He knows that all too well.

I can see it in his eyes. The torment. The regret. I doubt he'll ever utter a real apology. This is the closest he'll ever get to one, and I would not be true to myself if I didn't accept his token of peace. I've always dreamed of having my father at my wedding—a wedding with a husband of my choosing, that is. Not Grigori Fedorov's.

"Will you let me walk you down the aisle, little zaika? It would be my privilege. You have chosen a great man as your husband, and I wish to honor you both."

All I can do is nod slowly as Vitaly and Anton step aside. Papa offers me his arm. A smile tests my lips as I take it. For so long, I've wanted my father to see me, to really see me for who I am. I dare not dream too wild a dream here, but I'm starting to think my wish is finally coming true. Grigori Fedorov sees me as who I have always been. His daughter is an independent woman with dreams and ambitions of her own.

And he is ready to accept and cherish that.

"All right then," I mutter. "Giving you the benefit of the doubt, Papa."

"I will not disappoint."

As Anton and Vitaly push the chapel doors open, the organ music pours into the lobby with "Here Comes the Bride." As my father walks me down the aisle, as the guests rise and collectively gasp at the sight of him, the sight of us together, I know I've made the right choice. As Jason sees me coming, as the sun shines in his beautiful hazel eyes, glowing with love and raw emotion, I know we're on to something wonderful here.

He gives my father a slight frown as Papa gives me away, but the old wolf doesn't seem bothered in the least. He just responds with a curt nod and steps to the side as Jason takes my trembling hand in his, our hearts thudding like horses at a race.

"And so it begins," he whispers.

The officiant opens the good book, flipping to his preferred page. Silence falls heavily around us, and all I can hear is the promise of a wonderful life ahead.

The End